Ageless Passions by Karen Putz

Tag: communication

  • Welcome to my World, Deaf, Hard of Hearing, Hearing–Entwined

    On Saturday morning, we headed up to Busse Woods for the annual West Suburban Association of the Deaf picnic.  This year, the picnic was sponsored by CSDVRS Clear Blue, a program by the relay company that aims to give back to the Deaf Community.  They provided lunch and drinks for everyone.  Joe, my hubby, volunteered at the picnic to support the WSAD softball team and the upcoming NRAD racquetball tournament.

    WSAD has a special place in my heart.  I played volleyball for the WSAD team for many years.  I became the secretary and then the first woman president of the club back in the early ’90s.  Today, the club is run by another woman president, Julia Anderson, who is also featured on my other blog:  Jobs, Careers and Callings.
     

     

     There were hundreds of deaf and hard of hearing people at the picnic and hands were flying everywhere.  What I love most about these gatherings is that every conversation, everywhere we go, is accessible for me and my family.  There’s an ease that I can’t explain.  When I gather in a group with an interpreter or if I have to lipread– I’m usually exhausted after an event.  But when I gather with deaf and hard of hearing friends, my brain just seems to kick back and let all the conversations roll.  

    At the picnic, I was finally able to meet Teri-Lyn Calhoun from the Heartland Deaf Center.  Teri-Lyn and I had emailed each other for a long time, but had never had the opportunity to connect until now.

    The kids were having a blast.  David and Steven entered a bean bag contest and they were leading in the competition when I announced to Steven that it was time for us to leave and head to his baseball game.  He wasn’t happy about leaving, as he was having a good time chatting with everyone and tossing that bean bag.  There was no way we could have missed the game, as his team needed to win to get into the playoffs.

    Steven scored three runs, his team won by a large number of runs and the coach announced that he was going to treat everyone to ice cream at Dairy Queen.  Steven has been pretty comfortable with his team this year and I watched as he rough-housed with the other boys and cracked some jokes.  Sure, he fits in, up to a point.  The friendships on the team are mostly surface ones.  He does well with conversations that are one-on-one, but when the whole group is talking about something, he’s left out.  Bless those kids that “get it” and make the effort to communicate.  Ditto to the parents that take a moment to get to know us as well. 

    We headed home to throw brats in the oven and hot dogs on the stove.  Our grill was a goner–with two huge, rusted holes and an ignitor that wouldn’t spark.  A bunch of friends spent the rest of the evening with us, kicking back together, enjoying the meal and conversation. 

    Stephen Hopson, on his Adversity University blog asked his readers to name one situation that could have gone south, but didn’t, because of a changed perspective.  Here’s what I shared with him:

    “I became deaf just a short time before I transferred to a college that had several deaf and hard of hearing students on the same floor. I didn’t see it as a blessing at the time, because I was going through a “woe is me” period for several weeks and mourning the loss. But it did indeed, turn out to be a blessing, for I finally accepted myself as a deaf person and brought a new language into my life along with many, many new friends.”

    Here’s to the friends who fling the communication gates wide open! 

  • Are You a Bluffer?

    Have you ever been caught in a conversation where you weren’t sure what was going on yet you nodded along, laughed along or excused yourself to head to the bathroom?

    Social bluffing. Everyone does it, my neighbors with hearing in the normal range have shared with me. “I’ll be at a party,” says my neighbor Denise, “and I’ll miss something that’s being said or my mind is elsewhere and I’ll just nod along with the conversation.”

    Social bluffing is pretending to hear or understand something that is being said, and behaving in a way that shows you understand, even when you have little or no clue as to what is being said. I grew up hard of hearing and it was physically impossible for me to participate in group conversations with school friends, so I learned quickly to bluff my way through conversations just to get through the day.

    I can remember this skill emerging back in second grade, when a group of us gathered around the teacher to read about “Curious George.” The teacher called on me, but I was so enthralled with the pictures of the monkey and the man in the yellow hat, that I had no idea of the monkey’s name or just what the story was about. So I nodded along with the teacher’s question and apparently it satisfied her because she kept on reading and calling on others.

    I continued to bluff my way through school and in high school, I met another student who also had hearing aids. Shawn and I became fast friends in high school. During our senior year, the high school newspaper published a story on us. More than one student came up to us that day and said, “I didn’t know you guys had a hearing loss!” We had bluffed our way through so many situations that others around us didn’t realize how much we actually missed.

    When I transferred to Northern Illinios University in college, I had become deaf just a few weeks before. As I gradually learned to sign, I found myself using the same bluffing skills in an effort to fit in. I nodded along, pretending to understand someone’s signing while desperately trying to soak up the meanings of all the signs. It didn’t take me long to figure out that I couldn’t bluff with my deaf and hard of hearing friends, and I didn’t have to. Once I became proficient, for the first time in my life, I was able to experience full access to a group conversation. Parties took on a whole new meaning. In high school, I would avoid parties and group gatherings, but with my new deaf and hard of hearing friends, I couldn’t wait for the next one.

    It took a long time to acknowledge a lifetime of bluffing and change the way I access communication. As Lenny Kepil says, “It’s a survival skill.” I often employ communication strategies and occasionally ask people to write things down. Communication is a two-way street and today, I’m much more assertive in making sure that communication happens the way I need it to.